Therapy
by raquelicious
Summary: Riza sighed. Sometimes she could swaer that Roy didn't need therapy until he started taking it.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi fan people. This is my 2****nd****, I think, fanfiction. (I'm working on 2 million) I like it, but please review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I don't want him either. He'd bite my head off. I'm 5'8.**

There was a knock on the door, and Brigadier General Mustang opened the door.

"Fuhrer, you sent for me?"he asked.

"For God's sake Roy, you don't have to be so formal all of a sudden. Maes is fine." Fuhrer Hughes replied, leaning back in his seat. "But anyway, yes, I did send for you. To tell you that you'll be seeing the company therapist from now on."

"What? The therapist?" Mustang spluttered. "Maes, I'm not crazy!"

"Maybe." He answered calmly. "But one of your subordinates has informed me that you have a dangerous degree of OCD. Even though he didn't ask for me not to say his name, I'm keeping quiet, coz the ki-" he cut off mid word.

"I'm gonna murder Fullmetal." Mustang muttered under his breath. "I am seriously gonna kill him."

"And this, you see, is exactly why you need therapy. Don't go killing children. And anyway, there might be something to it. Not to mention that phase you went through after-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Mustang stood up. "I'll do your therapy. But don't be surprised if you waste your money on me."

"Oh, and don't forget to come to Elisia's birthday party!" Hughes yelled, stopping him at the door. "Can you believe my little girl is turning 5 already?"

_Yes, because she tuned 4 last year. _Roy left, sighing. Hughes really spoiled his little girl.

Lieutenant Hawkeye (she was still Mustang's lieutenant) had been looking everywhere, and she still couldn't find him. Her commanding officer was missing.

"Hey, Ed," she called him. "Have you seen Brigadier Mustang?"

He snickered. "He's probably in therapy by now." Al snorted, for some unexplicable reason. It was a bit hard to accept this little 12 year old boy as being Al, but Riza was getting used to it.

"Roy- I mean Brigadier General Mustang needs therapy?" she asked , bewildered. Al stuffed his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, and then she got it. "Do I even want to know what you two did?" she asked.

"It was nothing bad, I swear!" All insisted in his most innocent voice. "And- and- and- ED DID IT!" He dived behind the chair to dissolve in laughter.

"All we did was _...suggest_... that the Brigadier General had some..._issues_ that needed fixing." Ed explained.

"You put him in therapy." Riza raised her eyebrow.

"Yup." Replied the little blond boy who appeared over the chair back, a bit flushed with laughter. "I think brother was going to do that by next year, maybe."

Riza left the room, laughing despite herself. Sometimes those boys were just too funny.

**What do you think? BTW, don't kill me if I don't update. I get writer's block every two minutes. O.O**

**-raquelicious.**


	2. Chapter 2

**2nd CHAPTER! YAAAAY! Sorry it took so long. This has been sitting on my computer FOREVER. It's kinda short too. Please give me ideas for stuff to do.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not even own this computer. All I own in this life is several accounts on websites.**

"So you don't know why you're here?" the psychologist asked incredulously, tapping her pen on her clipboard.

"I am in here because the Fuhrer thinks I have OCD. I do not have OCD, therefore, I am here for no reason." Roy replied, deceptively calm.

"I see." She said. "But I can't just dismiss the Fuhrer's opinion, so let's talk."

"So?" Riza asked when Brigadier General Mustang returned to his office. "How'd it go?"

"I don't have a disorder." He snapped. "However, I am apparently too stressed, so I'm scheduled once a week."

"Sounds fair." Riza resumed with her paperwork (and half of Mustang's). He was really quite stressed as of late, with all of his duties and his chronic procrastination, not to mention handling Fullmetal and Al. Ed was 17 now, not a kid anymore, but Al was still 12 (he insisted that he was meant to be 16) and he was a bit reckless with himself. Sometimes he seemed to forget that he wasn't a suit of armour anymore. Add that to his state alchemist training and the Brigadier General had a job on his hands. (**AN: I can't think of an alchemist name for Al. Help please?) **At the moment, Al's biggest concern was finding a uniform that fit him. Ed didn't even _have_ a uniform. But _her_ biggest concern, which she should have been worrying about, was the mountain of papers that she had to be done with by noon. She glared at the document she was reading and wished she could shoot a few rounds at it; sometimes she understood why Roy procrastinated so much. After about 15 minutes, Al appeared in the office and she abandoned her work.

"How are things going, Al?" she asked casually. He stuck his tongue out.

"Mleah." He said, this being one of the only sounds one can actually make with one's tongue outside of one's mouth. "The tailors are mean. One of them asked me if I wanted to really join the military one day. And they kept sticking me with needles."

"How does the uniform look, though?" Riza responded, actually more interested than she let on.

"Um, I like it." He smiled widely. "But do I _have_ to wear my uniform all the time?" By this time, Al had sat on the floor (which he inexplicably preferred to the chairs) and Riza couldn't see him over her paperwork.

"No, not really. You can wear whatever you like, I guess, like Ed does." Al seemed to have run out of words, so he made no reply. "Is Commander Ross here?" she asked him.

"Yup. She stole my uniform." Al said, with perfect innocence. "And she convinced the tailors that she was my mommy." Riza chuckled at the indifferent tone in his voice.

"All right. Here." She took a cookie out of her bag and tossed it to him. "I bought it this morning, but I don't want it anymore." He stared at it for a good minute before slowly biting off a piece. Riza always liked to watch Al eat. After a year of having his body back, he was still fascinated by the ability to eat. He _couldn't _eat quickly. Even if he was starving, he would still take the time to enjoy every morsel of whatever he was eating. Roy caught her eye and smirked at her knowingly. She didn't like sweets much, and they both knew that. She hadn't bought it for herself.

"Where's brother?" He was bored. After receiving no reply, he got up and walked away of his own accord, leaving her alone with her commanding officer, who was... amazing even to Riza... fast asleep. He seemed to have been in that state for a while, despite the conversation he had been having with her only about 5 minutes ago. She walked over to him and something on his desk caught her eye. He had not done any official work, but he had been writing on a page. She wrote next to his words.

_**5 Reasons Why I am Stressed**_

Fullmetal and his brother, the two youngest (and most hard-headed) state alchemists ever, both being directly under my command.-_Sure, just blame the kids for everything._

Too much paperwork.-_Like you actually do it._

My friend keeps telling me to get married.-_And...?_

Insomnia.-_You sleep all right when you're at the office._

_A lieutenant who will shoot you if you don't get your work done._

_-Riza :p_

"General," she shook him a bit, "If you don't wake up, Black Hayate will take your gloves off your hands and bury them." He stirred, sitting up with a dazed expression.

"What was that, Lieutenant?" he mumbled.

"Sir, I said that if you don't wake up, Black Hayate will take your gloves off your hands and bury them."

"Is that a threat?"

"That is a fact." She said with a completely neutral expression, turning and going back to her seat. (**AN: Yes, I know I overuse some words. My vocabulary is limited.)**

He suddenly caught sight of the page lying on his desk. "That's very funny."

"Very funny indeed. Can you please get back to work?"

"Fine."

**KK! Done with another chapter! Yaaaaay! (celebrate with me!)**

**PS- To my reviewers: Sorry I don't reply to my reviews. I hate having to prove that I'm human. I wonder how Al would feel if he had a account.**

**-raquelicious 3 3**


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